by K. J. Parker
“I’ve found us a clerk,” Corason said, “in the Chamberlain’s office. He’ll get us in to see the Grand Domestic of the Wardrobe, who I know for a fact is a craftsman, and he’ll arrange for a message to go in through either the barber or the food taster, I don’t know which, who’s also Lodge. By this time tomorrow, we’ll have our audience with His Nibs.”
“Why don’t I just go and see him?” Musen said. “He told me himself, if I ever heard anything about another silver pack—”
“Bless the child,” Corason said. “Listen, you wouldn’t get ten yards. We’ve only got this incredibly straight line right through Imperial protocol as the result of years and years of slow, careful infiltration. The whole majestic bulk of the Imperial civil service serves one overriding imperative: stopping people from getting to see the emperor.”
“But they can’t just turn me away. The emperor said—”
“They can do what they like so long as the emperor never finds out. And how does he find out about things? They tell him.” Axeo smiled. “You can play a sort of game,” he said. “It’s called breaking into the palace. If you can sneak past the guards, you reach the emperor and he agrees to speak to you. If the guards catch you, they kill you and bury your body in a dungheap, and nobody ever knows what became of you. Or we can do it Corason’s way.”
“I broke in once.”
“Yes, you did, and it was one of the best-planned operations in the history of Division,” Corason said irritably. “To get you there, so the emperor could believe he’d caught you. And the trouble is, we used up so many one-time-only resources on that job that now we’ve got hardly anything left. So we do it my way.”
“Fine,” Musen said. “I’m not bothered.”
The tea was stone-cold. Axeo had asked for some more, but that was a long time ago. Musen liked cold tea, so that was all right. “My brother really likes this place,” Axeo said. “Well, he would. Apparently they keep a table empty all the time, just in case he should happen to drop in.”
Axeo, Musen knew, was a light sleeper. Just for once, however, he’d hung his coat on the back of the chair next to his bed. Musen knelt beside it and let his fingertips drift up the cloth until they encountered the flap of the pocket. He prised the pocket apart with his thumb and little finger, then slipped his hand down inside, until his fingertips came up against something straight and square. He let them follow the line; and then there was a click, and blinding pain—
“Well done for not screaming,” Axeo said. “It’s a small mechanical device for catching rats. One hell of a spring on it.”
Musen dragged his hand out, catching it on the edge of the pocket. The thing was still crushing his fingernails; he couldn’t think while all that was going on.
“Here, let me.” Axeo was beside him, grabbing his wrist; then the pressure stopped, though the pain continued. “Your left hand,” he said. “Oh, well. You’ll probably lose two of those nails, when the quicks swell up.”
Musen tried to back away, stumbled and banged against a wall. He knew his chances of getting away were draining fast, but the pain had taken all his strength. He could feel tears running down his cheeks, and something else running down the inside of his leg.
A familiar whirring noise, and a flare of light that grew steadily. He turned his head and saw Axeo, in his shirt, trimming the lamp. “Corason’s got it,” Axeo said without looking round. “I gave it to him earlier. The rat-catching thing cost me fifty stuivers, by the way. It’s the very latest thing in vermin control.”
On the other side of the bed was a small square single-leg table and on it was a pack of cards, a tall brown pottery jug and two tiny porcelain bowls. Smashed, one of those bowls would have an edge like a razor. But you’d need to be able to use your hands.
Axeo got up, walked to the door and turned a key in the lock. Then he crossed to the window and threw the key out. “Bear in mind we’re three floors up,” he said. “I asked for the attics specially. I can pick that lock, but you can’t, not with your hands like that.” He sighed. “It’s a shame, I could really have done with a good night’s sleep. But I suppose that’s out of the question.”
Axeo lifted the pillow; under it was another rat-trap. He prodded the back end of it gingerly until the spring triggered and the bar came down with a snap that made Musen’s heart stop for a moment. A surge of pain swept up his arm into his chest. “I got a good deal on half a dozen,” Axeo said. “The other four are in Corason’s room. I told him it was just in case. Apparently there’s been a lot of thieving in this district lately. I hope he remembers where I set them.”
Musen looked at him. “What are you going to do?”
“I thought we might play cards,” Axeo replied, pulling out the chair and lifting it over the bed. “There’s a stool over there in the corner, you can sit on that.”
A sudden wild thought crossed Musen’s mind; but the cards on the table were just cards, a conventional cheap lime-board pack. His pack, in fact. He patted his coat pocket with his right hand; empty.
“Have a drink,” Axeo said. “It’s pretty foul stuff, but it might help with the pain. It won’t stop it hurting, but after a bit you just won’t care.”
Musen shook his head. Axeo shrugged and filled one bowl from the jug. “Been a change of plan,” he said. “Corason sent up one card – Four of Spears, I think it was – for the old man to look at. I gather he damn near wet himself. But he’s learned some sense, by the look of it. He’ll see just one of us, alone, at dawn, up in his tower. Corason pulled rank, so he’s it. You and I just wait here till he gets back. Or until the kettlehats come and march us off to the dungeons, we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Musen looked at him. “You mean, he’s going to see the emperor alone, and he’s taken them with him?”
Axeo laughed. “Oh, come on,” he said. “He’s not that stupid. Well, actually he is, but I’m not. I told you, we’ve got someone inside – the food taster, turns out he’s a very big fish indeed, though of course I’ve never heard of him. Anyway, he’ll hold on to it for us while Corason’s in with the old man. Even if all three of us are arrested and he beats it out of one of us, the food taster won’t let him have it.” He paused. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But it’s not up to me. Come on, let’s play cards.”
Musen stayed where he was. Axeo sat down, shuffled the pack and started to deal. “Think about it,” he said. “By the time your hands have healed up, the emperor will have the pack. He’ll keep it safe, and you’ll know exactly where it is. If you choose to take a month’s leave and come back here, that’s entirely your own business. I’d strongly advise you not to, of course, but I promise faithfully I won’t try and stop you.”
Musen got up. His knees were weak and the pain was still very bad. He sat down on the stool.
“I’ve taken the liberty of dealing,” Axeo said, “for obvious reasons. Can you cut for trumps? Or shall I do it for you?”
Musen tried, but even with his right hand he couldn’t. Axeo took the pack from him. “Spears it is,” he said, and picked up his cards. “Oh, God in heaven, what a load of old rubbish.”
Musen pulled his cards down into his lap and spread them out as best he could with the sides and heels of his hands. He’d drawn four high Wheels and the rest were picture cards. “I haven’t got any money.”
“Not true, as it happens.” Axeo dumped a handful of coins on the table. “That’s yours,” he said. “I figured you wouldn’t get far with no money.” He grinned. “I’ve learned a lot from watching you,” he said. “Which is fair enough. I taught you to pick locks.”
Musen looked at him, then swept the coins over to his side of the table with the inside of his wrist. Then he glanced down at the cards in his lap. There was no way a hand like that could lose. “I’ll bet the lot,” he said.
“You sure?”
Musen nodded. Axeo dropped a gold angel on to the pile. “Read ’em and weep,” he said, and turned over his cards. All pictures; the hi
ghest, counting back from the Cherry Tree. He gathered the money and swept it to his side of the table. “Nominally your deal, but I’ll do it for you. Now, since you’re broke, we’ll have to think of something else you can bet with.”
“I haven’t got anything else.”
“Don’t you believe it. For a start, you’ve got all those teeth. I’ll be generous, twenty stuivers against each tooth. And after that we can play for fingers.”
Musen thought about the window. He’d break his neck. “Corason told me you like hurting people,” he said.
“Did he now.” Axeo frowned. “That’s a gross oversimplification, as he well knows. I like doing things – to people, for people – that sometimes involve pain. But pain isn’t the reason. It’s involved, but it’s not the reason.” He leaned back in his chair. “We don’t have to play cards,” he said. “I just thought it’d help pass the time, that’s all.” He gathered the pack and put it in his pocket, then did the same with the money. “Did Corason tell you about the time he was a junior captain commanding a half-squadron of light cavalry, and orders came down to intercept an enemy raiding party? Turned out when he got there he was outnumbered eight to one, he didn’t have a hope in hell. But the enemy took over this village, it was in the marshes somewhere, out back of Bresc; village was on an island, with a palisade all round it, and great big wooden gates, I think about five hundred people lived there. So Corason sent his men out to set fire to the reeds. The village burned down, there was no way off the island, the few that made it past the flames went down in the marshes, soldiers and villagers alike. And Corason didn’t see anything wrong with that. He’d been given a job to do, and the orders didn’t mention civilians at all, so he left them out of the equation. Of course, the purpose of the exercise was to stop the raiders hurting the local population, but he couldn’t see that.” He shrugged. “There’s doing things that might have certain side effects which aren’t pleasant, and there’s doing things that utterly defeat the object of the exercise. I’m sure you can see the difference, but I don’t think he can.” He closed his eyes and folded his hands on his chest. “What I’d really like to do is get a couple of hours’ sleep,” he said. “Will you promise me you won’t do anything annoying if I close my eyes for a bit? Bearing in mind your hands are all bunged up and I’m a light sleeper?”
“I promise.”
“Thanks,” Axeo said, and yawned. “You’re a pal.” He breathed in deeply and immediately went to sleep.
Musen lifted his head. Light was streaming through the window, the door was open and Axeo was gone. He started to get up, pressed his hands to the floor to lever himself up, winced and remembered. He looked at his left hand and saw three black, swollen fingernails.
He found Axeo outside, on his hands and knees in the gravel of the yard. “Bloody key,” Axeo explained. “That’s my window there, look. Got to find the key and hand it back in, or they won’t let me stay here again.”
Musen took a step back and trod on something. “Here,” he said. “Sorry, I can’t pick it up for you.”
Axeo crawled towards him like a dog, then stopped, just out of kicking range. “Thanks,” he said. “I obviously couldn’t see for looking.” Musen took two long steps back; Axeo retrieved the key, stood up and brushed gravel off the knees of his trousers. “I’ve seen Corason,” he said. “It all went off like a charm. One very pissed-off emperor, but Corason said there was never any doubt. He stood over him while he wrote out the orders for Senza, and our man the food taster confirmed they reached the courier.” He turned the key over in his hand. “Nothing can catch those boys once they get going,” he said, “but just to be on the safe side, Corason told him we’ve kept back one card.” He produced it from his sleeve, like a conjuror; it flashed dazzling white in the morning sun, and then Axeo put it away again. “He gets that the day after tomorrow, assuming no further couriers get sent to the Front. Not from us, though, thank God. We’re free to go, once I’ve made the arrangements for this little beauty.”
Musen took a deep breath. “Can I see it?” he said. “Just a quick look. Please.”
Axeo shook his head. “Better not,” he said. “Kinder if you don’t, if you see what I mean. Right, I’d better hand this key in, and then I’ve got to meet this man. Corason’s out on the stoop if you want company.”
Musen watched him go, then followed him back into the tea house and out on to the covered porch. There he saw Corason sitting alone at a small table, with a teapot and an empty plate.
“There you are,” Corason said. “Sleep well?” Then he frowned. He’d caught sight of Musen’s left hand. “Been playing rough games, have you?”
“I caught it in a door.”
“Of course you did. I thought Axeo seemed bright and cheerful this morning, I should’ve guessed.” He nodded at a spare chair; Musen sat down. “He’s told you, I take it.”
Musen inclined his head.
“Job done,” Corason said. “Rasch Cuiber saved from annihilation, everyone breathes again. I watched him write it out; withdraw to the frontier by the shortest possible route, regroup and await further orders. I guess you could say we’ve won. Well, someone has, anyway.” He grinned. “Excuse me if I babble, this is the most amazing weight off my mind. I never thought we’d do it, it was such a bloody stupid idea.” He shivered, and pulled his heavy cloak up round his face. “To be honest with you, I never expected to survive this one. When you two showed up in that horrible shack, I said to myself, this is it, this is the end of the line. Ah well.” He grinned and sipped his tea. “I’ve got to hang around here a day or so, then I’m off to make sure Senza’s pulled out like he’s supposed to.” He put the teacup down. “Fancy a trip to Rasch? Two capital cities in one month, can’t be bad.”
Musen stared at him. “What do you need me for?”
“Absolutely nothing,” Corason replied. “But it occurred to me you might like a break from Axeo. Particularly since he appears to have taken a shine to you.” He waited for a moment or so, then clicked his tongue sharply. “Up to you entirely, you think about it, tell me what you want to do. Otherwise, I imagine, you two’ll be heading back to Central. Just you and him. What fun.”
Musen stood up and walked away, not looking back.
Axeo didn’t come back to the tea house that morning, or in the afternoon. Corason wasn’t worried to begin with – he had various theories about what Axeo might be up to – but around mid-afternoon he put on a heavy scarf and a thick hood and went out. He came back after dark, when Musen was eating in the dining room.
“Well,” he said, “there’s been no couriers at all sent today, which is unusual in itself, but I think we can take that as meaning they haven’t got the missing card, at any rate. Nobody’s seen him anywhere.” He sat down at Musen’s table and lowered his voice. “Our man in the kettlehats reckons he’d know if Axeo had been brought in, and I believe him. Far as he’s aware, they haven’t even been looking. The idea was to keep both of you out of it, hence the last-minute change of plan, so there’s no reason to suppose they’ve got either of you linked to me. In which case, whatever’s happened to him, it’s not because of this business. My guess, based on knowing him most of my life, is that he’s either sleeping it off on a trash heap somewhere, or he ran into one of the hundreds of thousands of people who don’t like him. Ah well. Life goes on.”
Musen looked at him. “What was the bad thing he did?” he asked. “When he was younger, in the army.”
“Oh, that.” Corason looked down at his hands. “Let’s say he tells that story much better than I do, and leave it at that. Neither of us came out of it exactly smelling of roses.”
Musen sat up in Axeo’s room all night, but he didn’t come back. Corason looked in just before dawn. “You’re here,” he said. “No sign, I take it.”
“No.”
“Mphm. Look, if he’s not back by the time I leave, you’d better come with me. All right?”
“Is that an order?”
&
nbsp; “Yes, I think so.” Corason hesitated, half in and half out of the doorway. “I don’t know your file very well, but I gather you steal things. Is that right?”
Musen nodded.
“Well, not while you’re with me, you don’t. Not unless I tell you to. Got that?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.” He lifted his hand to his mouth and bit off a hangnail. “I guess I’ll be the one who has to write to his damned brother,” he said. “It’s just one gloriously wonderful thing after another in the Service.”
News. A drunk staggered out of a wine shop, tripped over the cobbles, grabbed at Musen’s arm, missed, crashed into Corason, flung his arms round his neck to keep from going over, and whispered in his ear that the courier known to be carrying Senza’s recall orders had passed through way station 26, paused only to change horses, ridden off at a hell of a lick, no sign of anybody following him.
Corason spent most of the day writing letters, which he stuffed into hollowed-out bones he’d got from a butcher. Musen’s job was to dump the bones on the trash heap out back of the Nine Cardinal Virtues, which led to a misunderstanding with an overconscientious dog, during the course of which he damaged his right hand still further climbing a fence in a hurry.
No sign of Axeo. Contacts and contacts of contacts in the kettlehats, the Watch, the prefecture and the subsection of the Works Office responsible for pulling dead bodies out of the river all confirmed that nobody answering that description had been seen, dead or alive – and Axeo would be hard to miss. Musen clearly remembered thinking, the first time he saw him, that here was the most handsome man he’d ever seen – not particularly tall; strongly built but perfectly proportioned; beautiful hands with long fingers; dark hair just shy of shoulder length; high cheek bones, quite a long face ending in a square chin, straight nose, clean-shaven, clear grey eyes, a strong mouth, that typical smile of mild amusement. True, he’d shown that he had the knack of making himself nondescript, practically invisible, but he only did that when he had to; he plainly enjoyed the slightly stunned look on people’s faces when they met him. It was a terrible burden, he used to protest, a real handicap for a man wanted by the authorities in sixty-seven provinces. But it should have made him easy to find, and they hadn’t found him.
